


Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

by memorizingthedigitsofpi



Series: June Fic-A-Day Challenge [8]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dad!Coulson, F/M, Gen, amazing story generator, awkward moments, fic a day challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:11:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4103806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memorizingthedigitsofpi/pseuds/memorizingthedigitsofpi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson has enough stuff to deal with without having to think about Lincoln and Skye.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guess Who's Coming to Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> The 8th fic in my [Amazing Story Generator, Fic-A-Day challenge](http://memorizingthedigitsofpi.tumblr.com/post/120419056932/ive-been-thinking-for-a-while-that-id-like-to) for June. If you want to, you can send me a prompt of three numbers between 1 and 60.
> 
> Numbers: 15, 21, 55  
> Prompt: As an incurable plague rages across the globe, an out-of-work writer brings home an unexpected houseguest.

"C'mon, Billy," Coulson urged with frustration clear in his voice. "Work with me, here."

"I'm sorry, Director," Koenig apologized. "But that shipment _literally_ disappeared into thin air." He paused and thought for a moment and then pulled out his tablet. After a few taps, he smiled in satisfaction. Atmospheric pressure _had_ been lacking in that location.

He hated using the word 'literally' incorrectly.

"I thought we had a tracker on it," Coulson asked with a clenched jaw. This was the fourth shipment of fish oil they'd lost this week. People were _dying_ , and he couldn't do anything about it.

Billy cleared his throat awkwardly and ran a finger around his collar. "It..." he hesitated. "It disappeared, too." He gave the Director his most apologetic facial expression, but it didn't do him any good.

"Get it back," Coulson said sharply and then stalked into his office and slammed the door.

\---------------------

"And this is my bunk," Skye said, finishing off the tour.

Lincoln looked around the room curiously. It was small and crowded and remarkably messy (was that a bra hanging off her desk lamp?), but it definitely felt like Skye. "Nice," he smiled at her warmly.

Skye scooted into the room and grabbed the bra from where it hung on the lamp shade, throwing it quickly into her open and overflowing closet. "Thanks," she said, looking around awkwardly. She blew out a breath, lifting her bangs from her forehead, and tried to think of something to talk about. She really didn't want to talk about her mom right now. Or her dad. Or Inhumans. Or anything else that was going on. All of that stuff sucked, and she just wanted to _chill_ for five minutes.

Her eyes landed on her laptop, and she smiled. "I ever tell you about the time I was a hacktivist?" she asked with a sly grin.

"What?" Lincoln asked, surprised confusion covering his face. "Seriously?"

"Totally," Skye nodded, jumping onto her bed and opening her laptop. "I was a key member of the Rising Tide," she bragged.

"No way," Lincoln grinned, clearly impressed. He climbed more slowly onto the bed beside her. Their legs were touching, but just barely.

"Here's the blog," she brought up the website. "And my podcast," she pointed to the iTunes icon. "And _here_ ," she typed a quick but complex password too fast for him to note the keys. "Is the code I used to hack S.H.I.E.L.D."

"You hacked _S.H.I.E.L.D._?" he goggled, staring at her. Clearly, he'd underestimated her.

"What? Like it's hard?" she grinned nonchalantly.

Lincoln shook his head in wonder and chuckled. "Just when I think I've got you figured out," he said.

"I surprise you again with how _awesome_ I am?" she teased, elbowing him softly in the ribs.

"Yeah," he agreed quietly, and his eyes drifted from her eyes down to her lips.

There was a quick rap on the door and then Coulson was there, looking down at a file. "Skye, I need you to--" he looked up and immediately stopped short. "Lincoln," he said, and there was a question behind that statement.

"Director," Lincoln nodded uncertainly and awkwardly wiggled his way off of Skye's bed. He looked from Coulson to Skye and back again, taking in the rather significant look the two were sharing, and decided that discretion was the better part of valour. Jutting a thumb towards the door, he said, "I'm gonna just..." He looked from one to the other of them again. "Yeah," he breathed out, eking past Coulson and out the door.

"He seems nice," Coulson said blandly to Skye.

She rolled her eyes and slid her way off her bed. "Shut it," she said shortly. When he raised an amused eyebrow, she continued. "Sir."

"Walk with me," he nodded, turning back out of her room and taking the hallway in the opposite direction Lincoln had gone.

"Nothing happened," Skye said defensively, keeping pace with him.

"Did I say anything?" Coulson asked innocently.

"Your face did," Skye grumbled.

"Well, let's just..." he looked for the right words, "Reserve judgement until we get to know him a little better, okay?"

"That's what I was _trying_ to do," Skye said, eyes sarcastically wide.

Coulson cringed. "Really?" he asked with a pained expression. "Did you have to...?"

"Sorry, Director," Skye apologized with a small smile.

"I mean, I get it," Coulson continued. "I have eyes," he said. "But could you just..." he waved vaguely. "Please?"

"Sure thing, boss," Skye reassured him.

"Good," he said with some relief.

"Now, what did you need?"


End file.
